


Honey Scented Begging

by makingitwork



Series: Chase/House [26]
Category: House M.D.
Genre: Consensual, Gay, Happy Ending, Love, M/M, Massage, Oil, Pre-Slash, Stress, dirty minds :), not in the way, sleeping, wait that's just me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-17
Updated: 2014-07-17
Packaged: 2018-02-09 07:01:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1973358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/makingitwork/pseuds/makingitwork
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chase is stressed, House offers to massage him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Honey Scented Begging

"What the hell is that?" House snapped, walking into the conference room, Cameron and Foreman were scanning a current case, and Chase was asleep, deep asleep, on his chair, half slumped over the glass table head cushioned in his arms. 

"He's exhausted." Cameron whispered firmly "He needs some sleep." 

"But why does he need it here?" House grumbled, before pausing "He's not snoring..."

Foreman frowned "So?"

"So...that means he's really really asleep. Like...incredibly deeply asleep," he stepped forward, and prodded Chase in the back of the shoulder. The blond didn't stir. "Huh." House clipped him on the back of the head and Cameron slapped his cane away. "Okay...so something's changed in his lifestyle..."

"House," Foreman warned "We have a case," he motioned to the file in his hand "You can't diagnose Chase."

"Aw but dad!" He pouted "It's so interested." House limped over to the side, taking out a match, and lighting it, he turned Chase's head, and held the match dangerously close to his eyelashes. Cameron looked about ready to punch him, so House backed off "Okay, okay fine, but he wasn't responding to heat near the optic nerve. That's worrying," he shot Foreman a look, who just shrugged in defeat, so House could go over to his whiteboard. He started writing symptoms. "Alright, deep sleeping, why?"

"New neighbours being loud?" Cameron asked, glancing over at the slumbering Doctor. House jotted it down 

"New girlfriend," Foreman clasped his fingers "Though he's been more tired, he's been more relaxed." House jotted it down. "Or someone died. And he's high." 

"Enough of this," House grumbled, heading over to Chase, yelling in his ear to wake him up. Before an idea struck, and he sid his hand down to cup Chase through his trousers, and why not cop a feel why he's at it? 

"House!" Cameron yelled, but quietened when Chase leapt up

"Ah, nothing like the threat of rape to get a guy up and about," House grinned. Chase was breathing heavily, but after seeing he was not about to get molested, calmed down. 

"Christ House," he croaked, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his hands "If you ever wanna wake me up, just call me Robert. It would speak to something instinctive-" he cut himself off an sighed "But you knew that."

"Come on," House shrugged teasingly, "That isn't nearly as fun. And besides, we wouldn't have to grope you if you stopped falling asleep."

Chase flushed “Sorry.”

“So,” House points with his cane at the board “Which of them is it? New neighbour, new girlfriend, or dead relative?”

Chase examined the board curiously “Uhh...none?” He frowns, pulling out of his pocket some pills “I’ve been getting severe muscle tension due to stress, the pills deal with it, but a side effect is drowsiness.” He placed the pills on the table, only for House to snatch them up and read the prescription to confirm that Chase had been telling the truth. He had. House had to grudgingly admit that Foreman was somewhat right. High, maybe not. But definitely drugged.

“Stress?” Cameron frowned “What stress?”

“None, actually,” he pursed his lips “I-“

“I’ll tell them.” House stands, and Chase rolls his eyes, but gestures with his hand to continue “When normal people, like Foreman,” Foreman frowns, but goes with it, like they’ve all learnt too “Get stressed, they…get snappy. Angry. Does Chase ever get angry? No. Our little wombat is a ray of sunshine.” He squeezes Chase’s cheek, and he sighs again “Some people break out in horrible pimples, like Cameron,” he examines Chase’s face “Nope,” he pops the ‘p’ “Flawless as ever. Other’s need to do excessive exercise, but Chase goes jogging every morning, and has no time for other exercise. So the stress, all the nasty chemicals, manifest as migraines, or muscle tension. For our pretty boy over here, it’s achy muscles.”

“Yeah,” Chase shrugged “It’s no big deal-“

“Not a big deal?” Foreman snaps “You could fall asleep during surgery-“

“I haven’t!”

“You’re not stab-“

“No!” Chase stands eyes wide as he turns to House pleadingly “No I’m stable, I can do this job-“ and then he lets out a cry of pain as his leg muscles spasmed, he fell back into his seat, wincing “I can do this, House.” And the Doctor has to admire the fact that he's trying to be strong. He looked like a feisty puppy.

House frowns, “You two leave.” He turns to Chase “You know, a massage could get rid of the tension.”

“I know, but I don’t have the time-“

“I’ll do it. There’s a message table in room 203, meet me there after work.” And he begins to hobble away, but Chase stares at him blankly

“You’re going to give me a massage?” he asks incredulously, before crossing his arms over his chest “Thanks for the offer, House, but no thanks. I’d like to be able to breathe after you’re done.” His blond locks tumble into his eyes distractingly. 

House rolls his eyes “Trust me, Wombat. You don’t wanna get hooked on bad pills if you know what’s good for ya,” he shakes Chase's pill bottle and reminds the Australian he still has it, before he pops two Vicodin and shrugs “But what do I know?” Chase looks up with wide eyes “Just scamper along to room 203 you’ll be fine.”

...  
...  
...

"Okay, so what's the deal?" Chase asks, walking into room 203 after work, and he's a little afraid because this is the area of the hospital that is actually pretty quiet and dark at night. He sees House skimming through a magazine, but a massage bed is in the middle of the room, and lotions are already standing on the side, waiting to be used. "Where's Wilson? The video camera? The blackmail material?"

"You know," House replied, not looking up from his magazine "Words hurt. I cannot even believe you think I would do something like that."

"House," Chase said seriously, shifting "My back hurts, can I..." he rubbed the back of his neck, reaching the top of his spine, House looked up, interested "Can I have my pills?"

"Get naked."

"What?!"

"For the massage," House stood, gesturing to the table, smiling "Don't worry, I'm a Doctor," and with that, he locked the door. Chase stared at him, tired, he held his hand out pointedly for the pills, but House ignored it. "Come on," he said seriously "I'm trying to help you. And I don't help people, ever. Remember that time you hypnotised me?" Chase nodded, uncertain "Well let me pay you back," he gestured to the table, and Chase nodded.

"Okay," he said cautiously, hand moving to his tie, he loosened it, still waiting for House to mock him, or laugh, or for Amber to jump out of a closet. But House sat down, and went back to his magazine, to give Chase as much privacy as he could. "Uh...Done?" Chase asked a few moments later, and House looked up.

His mouth went dry. 

Christ.

He still had on his underwear, black, expensive, short boxers, his torso was lithe and very slightly muscled, long legs, sun-kissed skin, sea blue eyes seemed restless, and his hair flopped in locks over his forehead. He looked like he was modelling the underwear for some magazine. House would buy that magazine. "Huh. I could have sworn I said naked. Not naked with boxers."

"Hilarious." Chase muttered "I'm not taking these off." 

"Fine," House sighed overly dramatic, and gestured for Chase to get face down on the table, and put his head in the separating hold, he let his youngest duckling get comfortable, before drizzling some honey scented oil onto the top of his shoulders. Why honey? Because House likes the way it tastes. Chase jumped when he felt the cool liquid, and then House's hands were on his back "Shhh," he soothed "Relax." And he started working Chase's shoulders, and neck. The muscles really were taught and knotted, but House had nimble, able fingers, with years of expertise. And soon Chase was limp under his hands, completely relaxed and pliant. "Better?"

"Mmmm," came a sexy, relaxed voice "S'good," he slurred. The voice sent an electric bolt through House. This was probably how Chase sounded in bed, and it gave him deliciously dirty thoughts about the wannabe-priest. House added more oil, massaging down his back, nearing the top of his arse. He wondered if Chase would notice if he peeled back the boxers a little-

"House." Chase warned, as House neared his arse, the older man couldn't help but smile fondly. He moves down to Chase's legs.

"You have surfer legs." House pointed out, moving his thumbs in circular motions "Did you surf?"

"Been a long time," Chase managed "God your hands..." he shivered feeling like a bowl of jelly. A bowl of jelly in pure ecstasy "I'm dead. You killed me. I'm in heaven."

"Flip over," House rolled his eyes, and Chase groaned, but turned over, arms by his side. "Do you think I could get you hard?"

"Hmm? Oh- dunno, would that be fun for you?" He opens his eyes, which glitter in the dim hospital lighting, as House drizzles honey scented oil onto Chase's nipples, and then with his index finger, rubs the nub, getting it stiff. Chase groaned, hips bucking instinctively "Very funny." He grumbled, tilting his head back "You're way better than pills."

House quirked a grin "Does that mean you'll let me do this everyday?"

"Let you? Christ, I'd beg you for it."

House grinned "I look forward to it."

**Author's Note:**

> Comment? PLease....  
> x


End file.
